


That one time Geralt didn’t entirely hate destiny

by BritPrus8



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritPrus8/pseuds/BritPrus8
Summary: Geralt of Rivia somehow has a soulmate and honestly he’s not THAT annoyed about the entire situation
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 56
Kudos: 1232





	That one time Geralt didn’t entirely hate destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Since apparently people are still reading this I want to put this at the start:
> 
> Before we start I want to remind everyone to take Coronavirus seriously, particularly everyone in Europe and America . It might not be you, but it WILL be someone.
> 
> Go to the WHO for your information as well as other relevant medical authorities such as the NHS in the UK and CDC in America.
> 
> https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/advice-for-public
> 
> Try to keep up to date with your governments responses to the outbreak and even when you’re not asked to, wash your hands and don’t cough on people.
> 
> Stay home and stay safe to everyone in areas with outbreaks and my prayers to those afflicted, their families and people who’s jobs are/might be affected.
> 
> Thanks to all the doctors and nurses fighting this disease right now.

Geralt of Rivia was a Witcher. Perhaps he could even be considered by some to be one of the greatest of his kind, despite his relatively young age. Witcher’s were not like humans, sorcerers or elves, they did not have soulmates. How could they when their souls had been sacrificed in exchange for their ultimate form? Of course sorcerers did the same when they ascended, sacrificing both their close companions and a chunk of their soul in exchange for immortality. But the sorcerers kept at least a small part of their soul and thus were, at least on occasion, able to receive a soul mark. Witchers on the other hand sacrificed the entirety of their souls in the process of their mutation. It was known.

Thus, when Geralt awoke one night with a burning pain on his chest you can imagine his surprise when he discovered his pain not to be due to a heinous monster attacking him in the dead of night but instead the branding of a soul mark into his skin. Geralt stared at the thing for who knows how long before he ran a hand over it delicately. Of course only one word came to his tongue when he realised that somehow he did indeed have an honest to heavens soul mark, and thus a newly born soulmate. It was with these words that the 26 year old, who had been a fully fledged Witcher for over a decade now, summarised his feelings on the matter at hand.

“Fuck”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julian Alfred Pankratz, known to most as Jaskier, yes like the weed. Had had a soulmate since the day he was born. His parents had, as most nobles do, searched throughout their own social class for his soulmate before determining that whomever he was bound to was not a part of the noble, royal or knightly class and after this conclusion banned talk of their existence in both his and their presence. For all intents and purposes to House Pankratz Jaskier’s soulmate was dead.

Jaskier, being the absolutely gorgeous and beloved man he most definitely was thank you very much of course could not let himself live and die without his soulmate ever being in his arms. Thus he took it upon himself to travel the continent in search of his destined partner. From the mountains to the swamps and through many, many, many inns and brothels Jaskier would not rest until he found them! The fact that the occupation of a bard heavily appealed to him was simply a boon.

It was a few years into his journey when Jaskier met his first Witcher. The Butcher of Blaviken as he was known throughout the continent. Even by Witcher’s standards the man was powerful. And he was a man. Though most certainly not human Jaskier would argue against him being a monster until his dying breath if he had to. The way in which he had handled their elven captors was testament enough to his not quite humanity. If Witchers actually cared solely for coin and had no understanding or feeling of emotion then Jaskier knew without a doubt that those elves would be dead and like as not so would he, if he had gotten in the Witchers way. The Witcher’s name, as Jaskier came to know, was Geralt of Rivia. He was a grumpy old man who had the body of a 20 something and at least a small heart. It didn’t escape Jaskier’s notice that Geralt was never to be found without at least a shirt on, even bathing in one. It almost made Jaskier wonder if he was hiding a soul mark, the man didn’t seem like the kind to hide his scars after all. Of course it was known that Witchers had no soul and thus no soulmate, but then again it was also known that Witchers felt no emotions and, at least in Geralt’s case, that was certainly untrue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geralt found his new traveling companion oddly comforting to be around. Don’t get him wrong the seemingly cursed bard was one of the single most annoying humans that Geralt in all his 50 years on this planet had ever met. Not only was his singing relentless and unending as good as it may be, but the bard was also (unsurprisingly) useless on the field of battle. As a matter of fact the bard even seemed to ATTRACT the attention of all manner of monsters. Honestly it was a wonder that the bard had even lived to see this day. Geralt couldn’t get rid of him if he tried. No matter what the bard always found his way back to him, be it after weeks or months. If Geralt believed in destiny he’d think it was trying to tell him something.

But Geralt did not believe in destiny and he was not getting fucking distracted now. Dear existence. The man also had annoying habit, not to his knowledge, of popping up in Geralt’s thoughts at the worst of times. Currently he was fighting a fucking ginormous selkimore and really did not have time for this shit. Jaskier was, as usual, watching on from an absurdly close distance in Geralt’s opinion. He would much rather have the bard be farther away, what with how dangerous and difficult this particular selkimore was being. And wasn’t that an interesting thought. Existence. He cared for the fucking bard. Fuck.

It is perhaps funny and definitely convenient that Geralt of Rivia, the great Witcher, was so caught up in his thoughts that he noticed neither the ripping of his shirt, the dying wail of the selkimore as he finally struck it down nor the gasp of Jaskier as Geralt turned to face him, his shirt hanging off in pieces and his soul mark proudly on display. What he did notice was Jaskier suddenly beginning to cry and walking up to him slowly with one hand over his mouth and the other outstretched.

Now Geralt was, quite understandably, incredibly concerned at this. Either Jaskier was hurt (which did not appear to be the case) or Geralt’s intestines were leaking. Looking down to confirm that he still had all of his organs in his body Geralt took note of the ripped shirt and his soul mark which was seeing the light of day for the first time in over two decades. Growing paler than usual Geralt looked up to meet his bards eyes.

Jaskier approached him and upon reaching him stroked Geralt’s mark almost reverently. He stared it it eyes wide and mouth open before meeting Geralt’s striking old eyes with his own now teary blue. 

“You have my mark”

As their lips met, for the first time a very long time Geralt didn’t entirely hate destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> So hope everyone liked this little one shot. I’m a sucker for soulmate fanfics.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated


End file.
